That's the Way the Money Goes
by The What-If Writer
Summary: ...'Pop goes the weasel.' Krai, a tiny weasel boy, finds his best and only friend Marshall, the delinquent sloth, has been dragged by a pterodactyl into the dangerous world of dinosaurs below. Now he's faced with the deadly task of bringing Marshall home as his fretful past resurfaces to test his nerve. It doesn't help that the older weasel helping him is seemingly insane...
1. A World Beneath My Feet

_*Face-palms heavily.*_

_Seriously. I told myself I wasn't going to upload anymore this week, and look what I've done. Well I assure you these updates will be slower than my other story as my time is now officially limited._

_Guess what? Sid's little brother's in this. This is a few years back and he is around twelve years old while the main character, Krai, is around eight, at least by human standards._

_And yes, 'Krai' is pronounced like 'cry' only with a hint of an 'a' with the 'y' Cr-aye. Guess it's basically the same...ah, well, please review._

_Yes, the title picture is meant to be Krai. I edited the shape (his chin and fur) and coloring a little so it resembled him more._

* * *

_Half a pound of tuppenny rice,_

_Half a pound of treacle  
_

_That's the way the money goes,_

_Pop! goes the weasel!  
_

Chapter 1: World Beneath my feet.

Sometimes things are better left alone.

That is, a lot of things shouldn't be examined, or explored too much if you have a lot to lose. It's like wandering into a cave you know has a good risk of collapsing, but curiosity (or stupidity, whatever the individual may call it) always seems to get the better of less cautious creatures. Especially the younger ones.

But bravery was a different case. Going into a cave, when you know it could collapse, to help someone else is stupid but brave. Not driven by curiosity...and indefinitely not meant to be left alone.

It was a dark and awfully lonely night, the snow that had coated the ground like a blanket in the early morning had now hardened to solid ice as more snow piled up. The falling white specks blocked the vision of any stupid enough to be wondering around at this time of the night.

One long, slender mammal traveled along the snow, hopping now and again through the thick blankets, trying to keep their small head above the thickness of the gathered specks.

The tiny weasel sighed deeply to himself as he hurried into the inside of a fallen log, shivering silently to himself as he curled up inside. The brown-pelted weasel git looked over his shoulder at the snow building up at both ends of the cave. A cold wind blew in from outside. His lighter, specked underbelly was hidden as he curled up tighter, wondering how on earth he wasn't able to handle such cold temperatures. He'd never know...

He also didn't know that he'd soon be getting himself into trouble because of such a stupid bravery...

* * *

The next morning came after a restless, cold night and both the wind and snow had faded away to allow the winter sun to shine down on the valley.

The small weasel found he had to dig himself out of the long as both ends had been blocked up with snow. By that time other mammals were up and about, other kids playing around in the snow. He avoided them, rubbing his arm as he wandered past. They gave him short, indifferent stares as he did.

All except one. A young, smooth-furred sloth boy sauntered over to walk by him, chewing on a bunch of berries he was plucking from his palm. The young weasel glanced at him, his usual wide-eyed, nervous expression pasted on his lowered head, arm still rubbing his other elbow.

"Hey, Marshal." He remarked in his soft, higher, accented voice unlike that of the other children. His vowels were pronounced differently and some syllables stressed...maybe thousands of year into the future a certain bipedal, primate race would refer to it as 'Scottish'

The older boy sniffed in disinterest, glancing around the path as they wandered away from the upcoming snowball fight.

"Weasel. Sup."

He shrugged "Nothin' much. Tryin' not tae freeze or starve ta death."

Marshall offered his handful of berries to him without looking over, eyes half-lidded and looking impassive.

"Wanna berry?" The younger boy smiled happily at this and plucked a few from his palm, looking ravenous.

"Tah."

"Don' mention it." Marshall, now free of the last of the berries, stretched as he gave a loud yawn, "So. What do we do today?"

The other boy shrugged. "Ah dunno. What d'ye wanna do?"

"I was burning ants earlier, but it got boring." The sloth said passively, shrugging. The weasel tried not to recoil. Urgh...

They traveled away from the village-like area that most of the herbivores mammals populated, or at least the weasel child thought so. Arriving here a few years ago, and finding himself an outcast of sorts due to his different accent and shy ways, he hadn't really traveled very far nor asked many questions. Also, since he held a small, tooth-based dagger around his neck for protection and means of cutting fruit down, people distrusted the tiny weasel even more.

Meeting Marshall, the exact opposite of himself, was an odd thing indeed. The delinquent sloth boy had no reason to hang around him, but the younger boy couldn't help but think that Marshall should stay away from his very...erm, dysfunctional family. He'd heard that they'd abandoned their eldest sun during the ice age...goodness knows were he was now.

Either way, they remained together whether they got on, argued or just sat quietly together. They were an odd couple and most people found them strange. They weren't like other friends, and they usually disagreed. But when they did agree on things, like sliding down a slope on a sled or swapping stories, it proved to be worth it. Though the weasel was sometimes put off by Marshall's passive, almost uncaring and sarcastic nature, he was glad he was his friend as he could be supportive sometimes, and looked out for him more than any adult had done when he came here, half-starved. It was thanks to the sloth that he wasn't dead.

And so the two odd friends were usually scene wandering around together, just like they were doing just now.

They found themselves near a slope among thinner ice, something that made the accented weasel wary as they traveled along.

"Um, Marshall...Ah dinny think we should be 'ere."

"What the heck does _dinny_ mean?" The sloth replied, ignoring his sentence other than the word. The weasel boy fodled his arms. Honestly...he didn't know why he was friends with this sloth...

"It means 'don't', ye dummy."

"Oh. You coulda said..."

"Marsh, Ye..."

The ground trembled the slightest bit; Like a ripple in the water, effectively halting their conversation. The weasel froze and his soft grey eyes flickered around nervously. Marshal looked passive.

"Probably just some mammoth falling over..." He drawled, rolling his eyes and turning away "C'mon, I think-"

CRACK.

Something burst from the ice like a geyser, shooting into the air high above them. Both boys gaped in alarm as it swooped towards them, and snatched Marshall up off the ground his his arm. The weasel gasped in horror as the flying created dove back into the whole, taking his delinquent friend with it.

He slid down by the hole, staring down as his friend vanished to the side, calling his name as his voice faded away, panicked and fearful.

_"KRAAAAI!"_

Krai stared down, panting heavily in astonishment at what he was seeing, eyes wide and jaw ajar.

There was a world beneath his feet.

* * *

The humid morning air had been quiet and peaceful that morning, and the giant reptiles had not suspected anything different to occur on this warm, damp day.

Neither did a crooked-looking weasel who was longing on the highest branch of a tree, knife in hand, carving tiny replicas of dinosaurs from small pieces of wood. He grinned as he finished one of them, turning it around in his paw a little to examine it when a high-pitched scream interrupted him.

He frowned, overbite exaggerating as he looked up, grunting slight in interest as a small, familiarly shaped figure in the distance flew down from the icy roof of the land, swooping out of sight in the air.

"Hmm..." He shrugged to himself indifferently. That was odd, wasn't it?

* * *

Krai continued breathing heavily in order to calm himself down. What should he do? what should he do?

Go back for help? no, no one would believe him if he told them there was a tropical world beneath the ice.

His paw reached up to clutch the sharp tooth-dagger hanging from his neck like a pendant. He'd have to go down himself...he'd dealt with bigger creatures... though it was only when they weren't so dangerous. He usually had to run...

Pushing those thoughts to the side, the almost timid weasel boy lowered his head through the hole to get a better look, shocked by the sudden warmth he felt upon lowering himself down. It was... boiling down here.

He spotted another one of those flying creatures and grimaced, beginning to shake a little. He wouldn't lie; He was not a very brave boy...but he had no choice.

He screwed his eyes shut and dropped down as one of them fly below him, landing on it's back. It squawked in protest and he clung on for dear life, promoting himself not to look down. His heart was pounding and he was more scared than he'd ever been in his life, but still he held on.

The creature swooped downwards under then new weight, getting closer and closer to the floor until finally it twirled, ridding the small mammal from it's back and wrenching his small grip away.

Krai cried out, only to collide with a bush below. "Ow!"

He quickly scrambled from the leaves, tripping as he did so. He landed on his side, panting anxiously. His whole body was numb and his heart was beating at a hundred miles per hour. The land around him was bright and colorful, a shock to someone who grew up surrounded by the white, blankness of the ice and snow.

The air was hot and humid, the dusty and soft. The deep, reverberating calls of the giant creatures that inhabited the dangerous, beautiful world echoed around him.

He...had to find Marshall...

Abruptly he felt a hot, foul breath hit the back of his neck. Whimpering softly, he forced himself to look over his shoulder. He regretted it instantly.

There was something large and red, sharp-teeth and with malice-filled eyes. He hadn't looked long at it was centimeters away from him and proceeded to roar threateningly. He curled into a ball and cried out as he moved forward- just as something whipped over and snatched him off the ground.

He yelped as he was grabbed around the waist and pulled off the ground; Whoever it was that was carrying him swinging into the air. The wind rushed past his ears and the small weasel screwed his eyes shut, shivering as the figure swung away from the place he'd previously been.

Abruptly they came to a stop and the other creature, whatever it was, walked along the soft, jungle floor with the small weasel still tucked under his arm. Then, Krai found himself being dropped unceremoniously on his stomach, on the ground. He finally opened his eyes and bent his ears back, shivering on the floor as the taller figure wondered a little ahead.

It was another weasel like him, but the resemblance halted there. This adult was reddish-brown, lighter in colour and adorning a green eye-patch that looked to be made of leaves. He was also wielded a large, sharpened knife; Something Krai noted with growing fright.

The other weasel wandered over to something lying on the ground: some sort of curving bone. He scooped it up and proceeded to attach it to the back of his shoulder-sling, seemingly forgetting about the frightened kit behind him.

Krai pondered from his position on the ground (he really couldn't move his legs at all, he was completely numb after the shock) if he should leave while he had the chance. He didn't know who the stranger was...even if he did save his life.

Suddenly the older weasel whipped around to face him and he shrank back at the critical scowl adorning his face. The reddish weasel rose a brow and approached. Krai's eyes widened and he began scurrying back just as the adult reached down and seized him firmly by the scruff, lifting him off the ground.

Krai raised his arms quickly to shield his head, legs tucked up and his wiry frame shivering. He whimpered a little before he heard the older weasel chuckle quietly after a pause.

"Don't be like tha', lad." He told him in a strange, accented voice unlike his own "I won' hurt ya."

Krai lowered his arms a little, staring nervously at the adult, who in return smiled crookedly. Then, the older mammal reached out with his other paw and took hold of the tiny dagger around Krai's neck, smile fading as he examined it closely. Krai shivered in his grasp as the other weasel tapped the point in an unimpressed manner.

"Hm. A Lil' flimsy..." He muttered to himself. Then, he returned his gaze to Krai's, brow raised again in a quizzical way.

"What are you _doin' _'ere?"

Krai stammered a little, trying to form a sentence as he fidgeted with his fingers fretfully.

"I...um.."

The other weasel smirked at his stuttering, raising his free paw to his ear. "Can't hear ya, lad."

"Ma friend...was tae-ken by a flyin' dinosaur." Krai finally managed to say.

"Weeeelll..." the other weasel drawled, grinning at the kit's odd little accent before continuing bluntly. "E's dead. Welcome to the dino world, lad. Now go home."

He released the small weasel, dropping him on his unsteady feet and sauntering off, waving a hand to the side as he did. His tone was awfully light and cheery for such a morbid situation.

"Off ya pop."

Krai didn't need to be told twice and practically flew away from the scene, scurrying away as he cats one last look at the other, weird-looking weasel.

He didn't believe Marshall was dead and, gripping the dagger around his neck, he decided that he'd find his only friend no matter what...despite what that other mammal had said.

He didn't noticed said other mammal turn and see him run off. He'd expected the lad to protest...maybe he didn't really care for his chum...

Well, why would he come down here, then? Buck was sure he'd seen the figure deliberately jump onto the dactyl as it swooped below and fall to the ground nearby, unlike that other floppy yellow thing that vanished from sight.

Buck frowned, rolling his eyes and sighing at the same time. The lad was going after the flopping yellow thin himself...

Guess he was going to end up as a tour guide again...

* * *

_Sigh..._

_PLEASE REVIEW._


	2. Reluctant

_A penny for a spool of thread,_

_A penny for a needle_

_That's the way the money goes,_

_Pop! goes the weasel._

Chapter 2: Reluctant.

Krai wouldn't have lied if he said he was afraid.

Though the sun was up and shining through ice like, clear as day, and the multiple colours should have been soothing or at least interesting (and therefore distracting) he couldn't help but feel incredibly cautious and worried whenever he heard a sound he didn't recognize.

This place was filled with odd sights and smells, and he hadn't even dared to try some of the fruit he'd seen despite being hungry...

He groaned and hit himself lightly on he head, mentally scolding himself for being such a coward. Image was it must be like for Marshall...he was dragged off by one of those things and...

He chased away the thought, not daring to end the sentence. It would seem to real then, too final. And so, twiddling his paw together fretfully, the tiny weasel wandered through the larger leaves. He rose a paw up to his miniature dagger, recalling how that crazy weasel had called it 'flimsy'

Well, it was better than nothing, he thought almost defensively.

Abruptly a long, echoing roar in the distance caught his attention. Krai gave a small whimper, shrinking back, his ears bent against his head. He stood stock still, glancing around and trying to reassure himself that it was far away.

He looked to the right and saw that down the large slope to his right, on lower ground, a herd of long-necked plant eaters (he assumed that when he spotted them chomping on some leaves) he found that the dinosaurs had also frozen, straightened up and began to listen. That unnerved him. What was it down here that scared these giant beasts?

He felt so puny...

Krai's soft grey eyes flickered around and he pulled his dagger from around his neck, turning it over in his paw until he got a good grip on the handle. Then, he wandered on.

He'd been following the direction he'd seen the flyer go from the hole in the ceiling (if that's what you could call it) that had miraculously still been visible.

Had he been familiar with this place, he would've known he'd just began wandering into the jungle of misery. But, since he wasn't a crazy, one-eyed individual wielding a dino tooth as a weapon, he did not.

The jungle was murky and damp, and he rose one paw to cover his mouth and nose while using the other to cut away leaves. The sunlight peaked through and shone on the oddly pretty-looking flowers...but he couldn't help but feel every time he turned around that something was looking at him from behind.

He came to a smaller clearing and finally found himself entranced by the pretty plants. They made him feel a little more at ease, and the constant I-think-I'm-being-watched feeling was toning down. He sighed happily.

"Well. That's betta."

SLINK.

Abruptly something wrapped around his ankle and dragged him down a slope, and the tiny weasel yelped, clawing at the ground and trying to grab something. But there was nothing to grab.

He was pulled into a small, watery pit filled with slimy green vine-like plants, one of which was curled around his ankle. Panting, he tried standing up, only to find his ankle was trapped.

Ears bending back, Krai began pulling at it, only for another to wrap itself around his arm and jerk him off his feet.

He cried out as the vines began wrapped all around him, and he struggled in vain to get them off. One particulary thick one tightened around his neck, and his cries were cut off instantly.

His vision began to blur, and Krai wondered (as his lungs began screaming for air) if he was going to die at this moment...

When a loud, war-cry like yell penetrated the air as something lean and reddish-brown swung into view, turning into from a long yell into a series of blubbering syllables.

_"Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeabliblibli bliiii..."_

Then, said reddish blur hit the ground, rolling along before jumping into a stand. Krai saw with alarm and surprise that the figure (though very blurry by this point) was the older weasel from before.

He whipped out his knife and approached, lowering the blade dangerously close to his neck. Despite everything Krai was scared at having something sharp so close, screwing his eyes shut as It sliced through the thick vine, allowing the air to escape from his lungs and letting him breath again.

Krai began coughing, eyes teary and red. The adult weasel chuckled to himself and whipped out with his blade again, slicing the vines binding him to the plant and grabbing him around the waist. He pulled Krai away, slinging him over his shoulder and wandering off, acting as if he was taking a nice morning walk.

He spoke in a pleasant, rather smug sing-song voice. "'Ello, Lil' chum. I see you've been makin' friends!"

Krai responded by coughing harshly, eyes screwed shut. The older weasel shrugged a little.

"Pfft. Tourists. You thought ya could just waltz around here one yer own?"

The older weasel put him down against a log, resting him on the floor. Krai raised a paw to cover his mouth as he coughed, the blurriness beginning to face.

The older weasel snapped his fingers beside his ear. "Ey. You listenin'?"

Krai finally looked up at him, wide-eyed and shivering from the sudden shock (and that fact he'd almost been strangled to death.)

The older weasel grinned down at him, swinging his knife onto his shoulder. "The name's Buck." He announced robustly, putting emphasis on the 'b' as he continued "Short for Buckminster."

He stretched one arm as he added on cheerily:

"Long for _'Buh'_"

Upon saying the last word, or name rather, he lowered his jaw and widened his eyes, almost looking like he expected an echo. Krai drew back, unnerved and slightly frightened (scolding himself for being a coward again) by the crazy expression.

Then, Buck snapped back into a cheery smile, looking at him with expectancy in his one blue eye. Krai stammered before replying quietly.

"Um...Ma name's Krai..." He twiddled his paws together as he said this, staring at the side. Buck laughed curtly, dropping down onto one knee and tilted his head so that they were at eye-level.

"You still scared of me, Lad?" He inquired, obviously finding it very amusing. Krai shrank back, feeling embarrassed. Buck petted him on the head "It's alright. Don't I getta a thank you?"

Krai could have kicked himself. This weasel, crazy as he cleary was, had saved his life and here he was shivering!

"Tah...um, thank you, I mean..."

Buck smirked. "Funny lil accent ya got there, mate." Krai almost glared at him for that (having bad experiences due to his accent at the hands of bullying peers) as Buck stood up to his full height and turning around, knife swinging over his shoulder as he said:

"Well, I'm the nicest fella your going ta meet down here. And it looks like I'm going to hafta take ya home myself. I'm turning into a tour guide nowadays..."

Krai would've been thankful for this help had he really not found it necessary. And getting help from this insane weasel didn't seem the best bet but...

"I...I was tryin' tae find ma friend, Buck." He called after him, still beside the log. Buck stopped, and he continued "I really, really have to find him..."

Buck threw his blade into the ground, standing it up there and turning sharply to look at him.

"Alrigh' then, lad, you want to find a dead floppy yellow thing, then I'll take you to the nests. That's were those flying dodos live."

Buck wandered over, sudden throwing his arms out and startling the tiny weasel, eye widened dramatically. "And ta get there, ya hafta avoid the _beast."_

Krai recoiled and took a few steps away from Back, stuttering.

"B-beast?" He inquired. Buck smirked widely, turning dramatically.

"I call him..."

Despite himself, Krai leaned forward, eyes wide in curiosity and awe when Buck finished in a low, knowing voice.

_"...Rudy."_

Krai blinked. Wait, wha...

"So!" Buck announced, pulling his blade out of the ground and beginning to walk, Krai reluctantly following him. "I got rules, lad. Rule number one...Always stay in the middle of the trail..."

As he went on to explain rule number two, while the pair of weasels wandered off from the clearing, A large, looming figure slowly began moving not to far away, following the smaller set of tracks. A pair of red, luminous eyes glared dangerously from the shadows, all the day dwelling herds vacant from the area.

A long, threatening growl echoed through the land as it began following the tiny, mammal tracks.

* * *

Marshall was going to kill Krai if he didn't get here soon.

The delinquent sloth boy jumped from pedestal from pedestal, the rocky, individual ledges protruding from the sides scattered with the remains of older nests.

Escaping from that bird-thing had been one of the hardest things he'd ever done and now, as he dusted himself off irritably, he was sure he was going to covered in these pecks for the rest of his life.

He'd been dropped into a nest full of tiny little lizard birds that had obviously thought he was lunch. Well, after using a longer stick to whack the mother away, he's sprinting along the mountainside, finding he was so high up he could barely see the land below.

The land...gosh, what the heck was this place? dinosaurs...underground plants...it sounded like some story his older brother would've made up.

Marshall groaned to himself "Huuuuh. Better go find Krai. Wherever he is..."

He looked about. He was sure that little weasel would come after him...oh well. He began calling in a bored, passive manner as he began trotting down the mountain ridge, arms swinging.

"_Kraaaa-i._ I'm coming buddy...and I'm annoyed..."

* * *

_Please review...I'm very busy so short and less frequent chapters are unavoidable... _


	3. Sloth and the Mammoth

_LOL_

_New character coming in. You have no idea how long it took me to get this finished (ya know, by my standards)_

_PLEASE REVIEW..._

* * *

_All around the mulberry bush _

_The monkey chased the weasel;_

_The monkey thought 'twas all in fun, _

_Pop! goes the weasel._

Chapter 3: Sloth and a Mammoth.

Buck seemed very confident as he strode through the trail, pushing long leaves aside with the tip of his knife now and again (leaves of which the tinier weasel had to duck under.) Their walk had remained in silence, something Buck noticed about the smaller mammal behind him. Shaky little lad he was, the knife-wielding weasel had no idea why he was even willing to do this considering how jumpy he looked. Guess that's bravery for ya...

He glanced over his shoulder and noticed said little weasel climbing over tree roots that Buck would have just stepped over. The lad still looked very agitated and whenever he wasn't using his paws to climb or moves leaves out of the way, he was twiddling them together, head ducked and eyes darting around. Buck shrugged, grinning as he turned his heck back towards the trail.

"Ya alright there, lil' chum?" He called back.

Krai's head shot up and he blinked. "Um, Ah...Ah'm fine." The older weasel stopped short and turned around, knife slung over his shoulder as Krai came to a halt in front of him, staring up at him with a wide-eyed look.

"Ya need ta loosen up, mate." Buck informed him, allowing a smirk to turn up the corner of his crooked jaw "I told ya, you're safe with me."

Krai seriously doubted that, but made sure not to show this. He glanced to the side and blinked quickly, but it seemed that Buck caught the look and scowled deeply, protruding teeth almost hitting his nose.

Then, he shurgged and let his knife swing by his side, eyes still fixed on the little weasel.

"Alright, then. How 'bout I leave ya to get eaten and we'll see who knows what 'es doing, eye?"

Krai jumped slightly, shaking his head and letting off a tiny whimper-like nose that sounded almost like 'uh-uh!"

"Good lad, now c'mon." Buck petted him on the head and headed off, grin back in place as he continued. Krai sighed, rubbing the back of the neck. He really needed to appear more grateful...

* * *

The dinosaurs had no idea who (or what) the little yellow bushy creature was. As if the soft, fuzzy stuff covering his whole, slouching frame wasn't enough, his total and complete disinterest and lack of acknowledgment to the flying herbivores around him was staring to unnerve them.

Was he brave? or ridiculously stupid? either way it seemed his first shock (when he's first seen then on the mountain trail)had worn off quicker than you could hiccup.

"Kraaaaa-i" He called, rubbing the back of his head in an irritated, tired manner "Where are ya, man? Kraaaai..."

He was answered not by his friend's voice, however, but a long, distant roar. Marshall turned, eyes widening slowly and fur standing on in...only for his posture to slacken instantly after a anticlimactic moment.

"Meh." He shrugged, continuing on.

* * *

Krai glanced around upon hearing the roar, ears bending back a little. Buck halted, turning his head slowly over his shoulder, eyes scanning the heavens. A slightly insane grin appeared.

"Rudy." He said, insanity sparking in his one blue eye. Krai gulped.

"R-Rudy? where?"

Buck reached back and plucked the tiny weasel of his feet, ignoring his cry of alarm and slinging him under his arm and speeding off. During this time the ground had began to pound like a heartbeat, and as Buck leaped into the tree and scaled up the thin bark, a louder, more emphasized roar shook the land.

Krai ears bent back and he began trembling uncontrollably. Buck grinned as he hurtled up into the tree-tops, grabbing onto a vine and swinging along. Krai looked over his shoulder and saw something crash through the trees, knowing them off their stumps and sending them tumbling to the ground. He gasped.

The giant, predatory dinosaur with albino skin and glowing red eyes had spotted them, and began pursuing them through the jungle.

Buck had looked over his shoulder, too, grinning. "Here, Rudy, Rudy, Rudy!"

"Are Ye Crazy, man?" Krai screamed. Buck laughed in response.

"Ya gottit, Lad!"

Krai whimpered at this, but clung to Buck' side fearfully, screwing his eyes shut. He only opened them when Buck gave a war cry, launching them from the vine and into the air.

They swung right off the vines this time, soaring through the air towards another set of trees in what seemed to be like slow motion. Kria's eyes widened as he stared down at the clearing below.

Someone was staring back up at him, and it wasn't a dinosaur. And is sure wasn't Marshall.

It was a mammoth, perhaps a pre-teen, light in fur and sporting bushy brown hair from his head. He stared up at the air-born weasel as he flew past, and then he was gone from view, leaving Krai bemused and bewildered as they swung away and forgetting for a second that they were being chased by a vicious dino.

* * *

The mammoth watched as a giant, white dinosaur stormed past, huge legs pounding the ground and almost making him loose balance. He ducked back behind a large boulder, watching as it pursued the two figures across the treetops. He watched then vanished from sight with a look of utter disbelief, brown eyes narrowed.

"Wha..."

Okay. That was going on his weird- thing-I've-seen-today list...

Suddenly something began yelling in a high-pitched voice behind him, and said something collided with his hind leg. Looking over his shoulder with a scowl, the young mammoth saw a small, fair-coloured sloth had just slammed into him, proceeding to fall onto his back.

"Ow..." He muttered. The mammoth rose a brow angrily, about to question him when a high-pitched call from the air interrupted him. Looking up he saw a bunch of those flying lizards darting towards him from the way the sloth had come, and thinking quickly the mammoth held up his trunk and knocked the two of them away just as they came closer. The menacing screeches squawked to a halt and they crashed into the bushes, half-conscious and dazed.

"I hate those things."

The mammoth looked down to find the sloth he's seemingly saved leaning on his leg, paw on his head and rubbing his hair dizzily. He scowled deeply.

"Get of me!" He said in an gruff, slightly low-pitched voice for someone his age, shaking the sloth away. The other kid stumbled back before folding his arms, raising a brow at the mammoth.

"How'd you get down here?" He asked in a drawl-like voice. The mammoth's frown creased even more.

"None of your business. Who are you?"

"Grump. I'm Marshall. Sloth. Y'know." The sloth shrugged in disinterest "And you are...?"

"Fred. Now get lost." The mammoth turned to leave, and the lethargic sloth's eyes actually widened and he darted after him.

"Freddy's a werid name." the sloth said, paying no heed to his words and following him through the few steps he took. Fred stopped and glared at him, beyond annoyed despite only saying a few words to this sloth.

"I said beat it."

"Look, ya don't have to be grumpy." Marshall remarked, shrugging "Thanks for saving me, by the way. Those suckers are heck-of an annoying..."

"I think I know something more so." Fred turned and began leaving again as the sloth called after him.

"Hey, wait a second, man!" He exclaimed "Can't we like, find a way outa here?"

"Guess not, bye."

"Dude!"

Fred stopped again, rolling his eyes as he looked over his shoulder. "Whaddya want?"

"I'm lookin' for a weasel. Tiny, brown, big grey eyes, wide-eyed expression." the sloth informed him, counting of these particular traits with his fingers. The mammoth was about to reply, no he had not seen him, when he suddenly remembered what he'd seen a few moments ago.

"Actually...yeah, I did."

"Really?" Marshall's eyes widened "Where?"

Fred shrugged and pointed the way he'd seen the weasels flee, or rather, swing.

"Some crazy weasel as carrying him along with him. Looked like they were trying to escape from some giant dinosaur..."

Marshall expression fell into an oddly annoyed one. He groaned, "Huuhh..Better go find him then. Maybe that crazy guy you talked about can help us get outa here, Freddy. Let's go, Freddy."

He began trotted past, following the path the weasels took. Fred frowned, shaking his head quickly.

"Wait a minute, squirt. There is no 'us!'"

"C'mon dude." Marshall said as he looked over his shoulder "Mammals of fur gotta stick together...c'mon, please man..."

The sloth dropped his shoulders, turning around and shaking his head. "He's my friend. I need your help to find him and I didn't hijack one of those flying lizards to get down here for nothing..."

"You hijacked one of those things?"

"Yup."

"..."

"What?"

The sloth's expression remained passive and rude, arms folded and tone coated with sarcasm. Fred glared at him, changing the subject. "Why should I help an idiot like you?"

The sloth rolled his eyes, dropping him arms, letting a foggy yet worried look take over his features. "Cause I really need to find him, man..."

Fred was silent. Then, he sighed deeply. "Okay, I'll help ya find the runt, but will you promise to leave me alone after that?"

"Promise, jeez. You'd think I was askin' ya to jump off a cliff or something..."

As the mammoth and sloth left the scene and began following the trail, a small, grey squirrel scampered past the clear, nut tucked under his arm. He stopped, sniffing the air and looking around. Then he spotted it- a nice tree hollow, perfect for storing his beloved nut.

"Dah!" He exclaimed, beaming happily. Then, he scuttled over to the tree and began climbing ,reaching the small hallow in no time. He lifted his nut over his head but just as he was about to throw it in, a pterodactyl swooped down faster than lightning and snatched it out of his paws. He froze, staring after the creature as it flew away, jaw ajar.

Then, in a cracked, tight voice, he cringed in frustration, breathing fast and hyperactivity.

"Do-hee..."

* * *

_Lol, Marshall just jumps onto a pterodactyl's back, flies down, crashes and gets saved without turning a hair (at least before they stared chasing him, aiming on killing the delinquent...)_

_I own Fred the mammoth, BTW._

_Please review..._


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